MVC Scrap Book
by Redrangerpower
Summary: *Formerly the MVC Halloween Special. Changed to One-shot book, which includes it.* For all the little random thoughts, snippets, and other goings on in Amorously Minded's version of the Marvel Vs Capcom World.
1. Halloween Special

Ken Masters had insisted, and insisted, and _insisted_ until Ryu had entertained the idea of strangling him. Sakura hadn't been much help either, eagerly taking to the idea of dabbling in a bit of foreign culture during her time in the states with her sometimes-mentor. Faced with the onslaught from both his best friend and his student, Ryu had been helpless.

Standing in front of the full body mirror, Ryu attempted to switch his expression into something other than a exasperated glower without much success. The green bodysuit, with gold shoes, gloves, sash, and headband-slash-mask was utterly ridiculous. The deep-v neckline, that was deep enough to touch his navel, did not help matters in the slightest. Daniel Rand had proved an excellent opponent on many occasions, and Ryu respected him like few other fighters, but the man who also called himself the immortal Iron Fist had chosen a truly strange costume.

"Oh come on, you look fine. Hey, maybe you can do some Hero-for-hire work! I hear they're always recruiting," Ken said pleasantly, trying not to laugh at his friend's expression.

"I can barely move."

Ken blinked, then looked abashed. "Well, nobody knows your size, so I couldn't tell the tailors. And I sure as heck wasn't going to just ask you your measurements. Having to give those out at the tournaments is bizarre enough."

"You did this on purpose," Ryu surmised, turning his glower at the blond fighter.

"Hey, you and Iron Fist have had some great fights, so I figured you'd like this one the best."

Ryu attempted to glare, but the mask made the gesture completely futile. "If we're supposed to choose based on that, why did you dress up as Captain America? You've never fought him."

Ken grinned and hefted a reproduction of the iconic shield proudly. "I went with somebody you'd be cool with because I'm trying to get you into the spirit of things. I, on the other hand, am going old-school. What kid doesn't want to be Captain America?"

The Japanese fighter shook his head in dismay at both his friend and his current situation and turned back to the mirror. As bothersome as this all was, he was a guest at his best friend's house, and more importantly, in his best friend's country. Putting up with a little of the local oddities, and Ryu did find the whole idea _odd_, was a manageable price to pay.

"Ok guys, I'm ready!"

From his vantage point in the mirror, Ryu watched with the beginning pangs of panic as Sakura Kasugano ambled into the room, mask in hand. The red, and blue ensemble with thin black lines that she wore was both tighter than likely decent and extremely familiar. The large black stylized spider symbol that had perched itself on her chest seemed to leer at him. Ryu remembered his very brief fight, and_ loss_, at the hands of the man who'd worn that costume.

"Why did it have to be spiders," Ryu grumbled quietly.

* * *

><p>"Look, I don't care who you're dressed as! You can't just take that cake! Let alone <em>forty<em> of them! That's just _terrible_!"

Wade had to admit, the pimply little dork behind the counter had some balls. Producing a handgun, Wade waved it at the young man.

"You dare challenge the might of Deadpool posing as M. Bison? Puny dickweasel! Taste my psycho powers!"

With a deft twirl of his finger, Wade was holding the gun by the barrel and made a stabbing motion at the kid.

"Ree! Ree! Ree! That's psycho power! It kills the star in a motel shower then dumps her body in a lake! Now let me take these cakes so I can satisfy the author's crappy attempt at a reference to our comic book rivals!"

Deadpool grabbed the handle to the wagon which contained the abnormally large amount of cakes and turned to his partner in crime. "Let's blow this vaguely defined grocery stand Bob!"

"Uh, right boss!"

Deadpool slapped Bob upside the back of the head. "You will respect my costume and refer to me as M. Deadpool!" Straightening his small red and black hat, and making sure to turn quickly so his large red cape could flow dramatically, Deadpool marched out the front door, cakes and lackey by the name of Bob, formerly of HYDRA, in toe.

* * *

><p>"I don't like this."<p>

"Oh come on Lady. 'Tis the season', ya know?"

Lady turned red and blue-grey eyes onto the cocky half son of Sparda, unamused.

"That's what you say for _Christmas_ Dante."

Dante shrugged under the brown long coat he'd gotten and twirled the bo staff around his fingers in that casual display of dexterity that Lady often found infuriating.

"Hey, half demon over here. For us, 'Tis the season' is right now," He eyed her for a moment, and felt his lips drag up into a smirk. "Besides, yellow looks good on you."

Lady tugged at the yellow raincoat, because it really didn't deserve to be called a duster, with a foul expression. The obnoxious pink-purple sunglasses that she couldn't for the life of her get out of her hair just added to the ridiculousness of the whole affair. This had to be karma for running up Dante's credit as often as she did.

Dante turned his head over his shoulder and called into the back of the little building that housed the demon hunting business _Devil May Cry_. "Hey Trish, ya ready? There's candy to get and parties to go to."

"Manchild, worried about_ candy_," Trish grumbled good-naturedly as she emerged from the back. The black one-piece swimsuit like costume with gold lightning bolt symbol, matching tall boots, red sash and black domino mask were filled out very nicely by the demoness.

Dante chuckled and grabbed a deck of purple glow-in-the-dark cards off his desk. "Hey, 'Tis the season'. Let's go babes, we got a long night ahead of us!"

* * *

><p>Rocket Raccoon took one look at the costume, a pair of blue slacks, blue jacket and Kevlar vest with the letters 'R.P.D.' emblazed on the front in white and he turned to Richard Rider, otherwise known as Nova with a glare.<p>

"You're a right dick, ya know that?

Nova grinned under the large blue helmet and raised the cannon that was his right arm up in a way that was supposed to look triumphant.

"I know. but I figured it was either a pun or give you a dog's costume."

* * *

><p>Peter Parker regarded his impromptu party 'date' with a long and impressed stare. "Huh, so <em>that's<em> what you were doing in there."

"The paint took a long time," she agreed, then struck a fighter's pose and grinned. "So, what do you think?"

Peter weighed his responses carefully. Finally he settled on, "Are you going to say..._it_?"

Rolling her eyes, but still grinning, the woman shot back with, "Chun-Li SMASH!"

That got them both to snicker uncontrollably.

"Jen might sue you, ya know."

"Oh, and like Guile would like _yours_ any better."

"Hey," Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, protested mock-seriously. "I just happen to think some people need to 'Swing home, and be a family man'! I think Spider-Guile will be a hit; I do whatever a Spider-Guile does!"

* * *

><p>"Jesus Laura, why'd you go with <em>that<em>?" Wolverine grumbled at his clone-slash-daughter. It was complicated.

Laura Kinney, sometimes called X-23 to her immense displeasure, studiously adjusted one of the batwings on her back, then after a moment of consideration, did the same for the additional pair on her head. The purple bat themed pantyhose fit very well and Wolverine got the distinct impression that before the night was out, some punk who couldn't control where his eyes went was gonna get clobbered.

"I've worn worse. Besides, 'Temptress of the Night' was the first costume I saw."

* * *

><p>No matter how many times he tried it, Chris Redfield just couldn't point at anything and tell it 'Now you face Thor, god of Thunder!' without feeling like the single biggest idiot on the face of the planet. At one point, in frustration, he'd thrown the store-bought hammer and felt his entire being flinch when it struck the wall and emitted a loud squeak. Exactly the same kind of squeak that one heard when they stepped on their dog's rubber chew-toy.<p>

Jill owed him for this like she wouldn't believe.

* * *

><p>"Ok, got everything kiddo?"<p>

Lilith nodded up at Tony with a big grin. She hadn't gotten much chance to see the outside world on Earth, and the idea that she could do that and get candy out of the deal was almost too good imagine. Adjusting her slightly oversized black jumpsuit and red wig, she couldn't help but throw a slightly envious look at her mother, Morrigan. The older succubus filled out the red and gold short shorts, and matching top very well. The thin metal replica boots, gauntlets and light-up ark reactor that dangled between her breasts brought everything together in a way that Lilith couldn't wait to have for herself.

When Tony had seen Morrigan's costume, he'd been somewhat surprised that they'd started making costumes based on the dancing girls from the yearly Stark Industries Expo. Morrigan had replied that, as far as she knew, they hadn't and that she'd gotten hers off one of the _actual_ dancers. The smile she had when she said that told Tony everything he needed to know about what had happened.

"Brunet, short hair? Big blue eyes?" Tony asked, slightly curious. Morrigan had nodded and continued to smile. "Well, 'sharing is caring', as they say." Tony Stark adjusted the white ascot and billowing blue cape. He hadn't been able to get the hair right, but the fake fangs had sent Morrigan into near hysterics. "Alright, let's get going. Got things to do."

"Please, lead on Mr. Maximoff," Morrigan jeered and laughed again.

Tony waved her off with a grin of his own and nodded to Lilith. "Lead the way lil' Widow."

* * *

><p>Inane? Probably. Completely missing the appropriate time? Absolutely. A fun drabble to get the gears going again? Hell yeah. Gotta keep that 31 alive. Happy Late Halloween everybody. Sometimes it takes a little while to get these young, but still all together unreasonable bones a-going.<p>

As obvious, I own none of these characters, settings, or etcetera. Suing me would be a long, drawn-out, pointless thing.

Oh, and if anybody didn't know who dressed as who, I've put a run-down below.

**Costume run down:**

Ryu: Iron-Fist

Ken: Captain America

Sakura: Spider-Man (female version. There's a lot more of them than you might think).

Deadpool: M. Bison

Lady: Jubilee

Dante: Gambit

Trish: Ms. Marvel

Rocket Racoon: (attempted) Resident Evil 2 Leon S. Kennedy

Nova: Mega Man

Spider-Man: Spider-Guile (may be funnier to me right now than it will be to you guys)

Chun-Li: She-Hulk

X23: Morrigan Aensland

Chris Redfield: Thor

Lilith: Black Widow

Tony: Demitri Maximoff

Morrigan: Stark Expo dancer from Iron Man 2, or slutty Iron Man. Whichever really.


	2. Burger Run

Patty Lowell had come to anticipate weirdness in her life. How could she not when she lived in one of the suburbs of New York City, New York, the city with the single greatest concentration of super heroes and villains in the world? Weirdness emanated from the city like aftershocks from an earthquake.

But this...this confounded the much vaunted world weariness of the sixteen year old cashier.

Patty stared at the red and gold Escalade SUV sitting at the drive-thru window , and began to get the feeling that becoming a member of the Burger King team wasn't the hot idea that her mother had said it would be for any girl's first job. Now, again, New York had a high density of weird goings on, and there was an old joke that said fast food restaurants experienced a fair amount of oddness themselves; it simply came with the territory of being open into the wee hours of the morning and having a large supply of cheap food. This could simply be the result of those two facts crossing one another.

Heck, some of the older people there swore up and down that a year or two ago, the Hulk and Thor had barged into that very BK, ordered the contents of the _whole _kitchen, and engaged in an eating contest that had made the front page of _The National Enquirer _magazine. Of course, every other Burger King in the area swore that it had happened at their location, so Patty was a bit dubious of those claims.

Patty rallied herself, and tried to get back into her work persona.

"I...uh...did you just order?" She asked.

The Invincible Iron Man, in full armor, sat behind the wheel and nodded his helmeted head. "Yep."

She stared some more. In the front passenger seat sat a disgustingly curvy woman with long green hair and dressed like she'd just walked out of some kind of Halloween themed porno. Patty recognized her from the "Temptress of the Night" billboard she'd seen the last time she'd gone into the city. Behind them sat Spider-Man, though he was largely out of costume save for the mask. The Spider-Man themed hoodie he wore made the situation feel even more like a joke. Next to the infamous wallcrawling menace sat the World Warrior martial arts tournament's own strongest woman in the world: Chun-Li Zang. It looked just like her, right down to the pair of Chinese buns she'd done her hair into, "ox knots" if Patty's memory of an article from _World Warriors _Magazine served.

Another pair sat in the backseat. The first was a tall, sculpted male model type guy, with bright white hair and dressed in all red. Next to him sat a kid about her age, maybe a bit younger, with bright pink-purple hair, red eyes, and clothed in some purple jeans and a oversized red sweatshirt.

Patty decided to forge ahead. "Ahh...did you want any condiments?"

"Ketchup for the fries," Spider-Man chimed in.

"Some ranch dipping sauce," That was from Chun-Li.

The man in red was next, "Marinara sauce!"

Patty nodded and numbly turned to the condiment rack to grab the selections. And that's when Joe bounded up, holding three different fully loaded down bags.

_Oh god no. Please not Joe._

Joseph Black, though he was Joe to just about everybody, was a nice guy, if more than a little hyper. He loved movies, loved super heroes, and found it almost fatally hard to shut-up about either. Putting him in the current situation just reinforced Patty's suspicion that today was some kind of cosmic joke at her expense.

"Here ya go Patty, five double cheeseburgers, three orders of chicken nuggets, and six fries," He set them down near the drive-thru window and gave her one of his naturally goofy smiles. "First big order of the day, ready to go."

And then he looked over at the SUV. Patty closed her eyes, and prepared herself.

"Gah...buh...wha..." Joe stammered, sounding like he was choking on his own tongue. "Iron Ma...Spi-Spider-Man...Morrigan... Ch-chun-Li...all in the same..."

"Joe, breathe. Just breathe," Patty told him and quickly stuffed the condiments into the bags. She made sure to block Joe's view when she leaned out the window and handed them their orders.

"Sorry, he's kind of a fanboy." She paused and gave Iron Man a look. "...Can I ask why you're dressed like that? I mean," a laugh she didn't at all mean to let slip out interrupted her, "are you really...?"

Iron Man shrugged. "'Fraid not."

"What! But how?" Joe demanded from behind her. He sounded like somebody had just told him Santa wasn't real.

"We're going to Comic-Con. The wife," he flicked a thumb at the Morrigan look-alike who had covered her mouth and looked away, though her shoulders were visibly shaking, "thought that the only way to do it was to cosplay. So here we are. How much do I owe you?"

Patty blinked, finding herself almost disappointed at the explanation. New York Comic-Con was indeed in town this week and she honestly should have expected something like this to happen.

The girl in the backseat squawked indignantly when the guy in red used the miniature Nerf bow, a toy he'd gotten on specific request, to launch a few tiny foam arrows at her. The girl retaliated with a liberal spray of orange soda from her straw.

"Fifty-seven fifty." Patty replied, ignoring the shenanigans in the backseat.

The Iron Man cosplayer handed over a wad of bills. "Keep the change if there's any. I don't feel like trying to mess with my wallet with this stuff on."

The cashier took the bills and nodded. "No problem. Oh, and by the way, your Spider-Man needs some work."

The white haired guy in the back burst into laughter and the Spider-Man grumbled irritably.

"Sure does. We're docking him points since he's not authentic," The Iron Man cosplayer chuckled. He put the SUV in gear. "Wish us luck in the costume contest."

The SUV pulled out and vanished, leaving Joe with a hangdog expression, and Patty hoping that her weird quota for the day had been filled.

* * *

><p><em>Because, hey, why should the story thread on the forums be the only one to get these?<em> _For sake of canon, this takes place during chapter 9's drive to Stark Tower._

_As with all fan fiction, I own nothing but the premise. Everything else is entirely owned by Marvel Comics or Capcom respectively._


	3. The first time SpiderMan got drunk

_This, this right here, is a bad idea. _Peter Parker, recently trade marked as the Amazing Spider-Man, thought as he tried and failed to shake off the massive arm around his shoulders. The occasional passerby, by which Peter meant every single one of them, gave him and his new buddy a wide berth and odd looks. Oh, not that Pete couldn't take the occasional "who the heck is this guy in a leotard" look, which were getting a little less common these days, but most of them weren't directed at the webslinger.

"Fear not man of spiders," The giant long haired blond lummox in Viking armor, flowing red cape, and the true target of most of the staring, proclaimed gladly. And at a volume reasonable for an active helipad. "Because you joined me in battle against one of Jotunhiem's foul sons, I shall take you with all haste to a hall where you might receive thine deserved accolades!"

Thor Odinson, the honest to goodness prince of Asgard and god of thunder, was nothing if not persuasive.

"It's _Spider-Man._ And, no really, it's fine." Peter attempted, for the third, time to weasel his way out of the Thunderer's hold to no avail. The god of thunder had a heck of a grip on him too. With conventional escape seeming more and more unlikely, Pete decided to attack the problem from a different angle. "I didn't really even do anything, really. I just shot some web in his face. _You_, big guy, and your plus 2 hammer of lightning, are the ones that took care of him."

_Took care of him upside the head and into the Hudson. _

"So, really," Spidey again tried to slither away from Thor's half embrace; as it was, he barely managed to wiggle pitifully. "You're the one who should be getting the free drinks. I mean, I can't even legally drink yet!"

He got a few more looks from people passing them on the sidewalk at that and Pete was suddenly glad that he was wearing a mask so nobody would see him blush. _Ok, dumb. Don't give clues about your secret identity. That's Super Hero 101. Unless you're Iron Man, and just announce it at a press conference. Besides, 19 is a good age. It's a prime number, _and _the atomic number of potassium! Which...huh...does that make me banana flavored? Ok...no weird thoughts. Steer for clearer waters Mr. Sulu. _

Thankfully, the Thunderer came to rescue Spidey from wildly errant thoughts in the nick of time.

"Your humble nature does you much credit man of spiders, but I shall not relent!" That hold of Thor's got a little tighter and Peter was suddenly struggling to breathe. "As prince of Asgard, t'would be woefully improper to deny you thine rightfully won festivities. Such precedents shall not be set in mine company."

"Air," The webslinger wheezed pitiably at Thor.

"Ah, my apologizes friend." The god of thunder eased his grip, though not enough to let Peter flee. "At times, I forget mine own strength is so superior to those of Midgard. Art thou well?"

Peter coughed as his lungs got back to work. "Yeah, I'm peachy."

"I do not understand your meaning."

The absolutely honest confusion in Thor's voice was almost adorable. If, and this was a big if as far as Peter was concerned, the thunder god wasn't just shy of seven feet tall and built like a pair of Arnold Schwarzeneggers. And that was leaving out the flying, lighting throwing, and hammer that could slap a twenty foot tall frost giant across a whole city block and into a river.

So conventional escape was impossible, and his persuasion stats weren't up to the task, so Peter fell back to his next argument. "What if more of those guy show up? Or the one you clocked comes back for round two? We can't just ignore that!"

"Indeed we would not. We would charge once more into battle, and slay the fiends."

Thor stopped walking, and swung round to face the face of an old brownstone building. Peter yelped as his body was forced to follow the movement. Two flights of stairs greeted them, one rising off the sidewalk and to a pair of glass doors, and another which descended into the old basement. An old, but well taken care of, wooden sign hung just above the door the descending stairs ended at.

Peter stared at the gold lettering on green wood background. "'Mahoney's bar and grill'? Are you serious?"

"Do I appear to be in a gaming mood?" Thor raised a mighty blond brow at the webslinger.

The thunder god had said exactly the same thing to the frost giant he'd clobbered, and the loud crack that had reverberated from one hit of Thor's hammer on the giant echoed ominously in Peter's mind. So did the roars of lightning bolts. With that last bit of reinforcement, Spidey decided to fold. Aunt May wouldn't mind if he was a little later than normal; he'd missed the bus before, after all.

"Ok. Just for a few minutes. I don't want to keep an..anybody waiting."

The giant of a man smiled widely. "Then we shall feast, and drink while we are able. Come my friend, merriment awaits!"

* * *

><p>The first thing they'd had to pay for at Mahoney's bar and grill, was <em>the door<em> to Mahoney's bar and grill. Thor had been quite apologetic and gently set it next to the door frame, offering the shocked bartender a credit card. Spider-Man just stared at it, thoroughly baffled at the notion of a Norse god keeping a Discover card on him.

"The man of iron gave it to me as a gift. He claimed t'would allow me to experience more of Midgard than I would be otherwise able. He has proven to be quite right." Thor said by way of explanation.

"Huh," Peter replied. "Wish I had your connections."

Mahoney's was an older place. In its heyday, it'd probably been one of the classiest pubs in the neighborhood. Now, age had made it more homey than extravagant, with a smell that was equal parts smoke, beer, and cooking food. The bar, all rich dark wood and polished brass trim, started right where customers walked in and extended to the wall furthest from them. To the right of the bar was a small collection of tables and chairs, and some pool tables. An old fashioned jukebox stood glowing in the far corner, gently playing some of the twangy half-rock half-country music that Uncle Ben had loved.

_Guess this could be worse. _Peter reasoned and sat on the barstool whose neighbor Thor inhabited. _I could go for a steak sandwich and fries or something. _

"Good sir," The Thunderer addressed the bartender with a smile. "I come to you in the spirit of celebration! My new brother in arms here," And that lung crushing one armed embrace from earlier made its dramatic reappearance, "has aided me in combat against a Jotum. I request that he be treated to all the delights you may offer, be they drink or food, or song."

The barkeep was a black man, edging into middle age, with short, well trimmed hair. He blinked owlishly at the two of them then, in true New York spirit, brushed off the weirdness and shrugged. "Sure. Fine. What can I get for you?"

"Uh, yeah, can I get.." Peter began, now feeling intent on getting some grub. Fighting a giant, or distracting one as the case may be, was exhausting work that got one's appetite up. But, of course, a certain lighting wielding elephant in the room just had to interrupt.

"Indeed! Some of your finest drink and some food, if thou'd be so kind."

The Barkeep nodded and vanished into an adjacent room while Pete tried his best to glower through his Spider-Man mask. "Didn't we already talk about this sparky? I can't legally drink! As in, against the law. As in, they'd lock up poor Spidey, that's me, in a big house of bad people. And not funny bad, but _bad_ bad. "

"Fear not man of spiders, all your dealings for today shall be done with the Odinson's approval."

The webslinger briefly imagined how that alibi would hold up in court. The image of Thor, dressed in a formal suit, pacing about the courtroom proclaiming in his defense, hammer held threateningly in one hand, was one of the single most ridiculous things to ever enter Peter Parker's brunet head.

A few minutes passed as Pete attempted to further argue his case, which Thor paid little mind. The few baskets of warm fried chicken stripes, fries, and garlic bread the bartender put down in front of them shut Peter up for a little while. Thor tore through his food in minutes and ordered a second round. A full belly of warm comfort food did wonders for Pete's state of mind; living in an apartment and whatever money he could scrounge up didn't make for good meals very often. Aunt May was, of course, an option but Peter wanted to show her he could make it on his own and didn't try to beg for food more than once a week.

_Alright, so I was wrong. Getting a free lunch was worth it. _Spider-Man thought as he chewed on a remaining fry. _And no drinking, so no laws broken, and no Thor working for the defense. That'd be a heck of a Law and Order episode though. _

And that's when the barkeep set down a pair of glass mugs that, in most other states, Peter was sure could be classified as lethal weapons. Each was about the size of a two liter bottle, and wide enough to easily fit a whole hand inside. And, most troubling of all, was the contents: gold liquid filled nearly to the rim, with a light stream of bubbles floating up from the bottom of the glass, and a thick white froth on top.

"Uh..." Spider-Man said at the mugs.

Suddenly the bartender reappeared. "Sorry, I forgot."

For a moment, the webslinger honestly thought that the guy would have a change of heart and take the Godzilla sized beer away from the minor, super hero or no. Dreams were dashed when instead, he set down a matching pair of small glasses next to the mugs. Each glass was half filled with an amber liquid that made Spider-Man's nose twitch, even through the mask. Oddly, his spider-sense had yet to go off and he briefly entertained the idea that it had betrayed him for its own nefarious amusement.

"Two boilermakers. Best in the house, just like you ordered blondie," The barkeep said with a nod at Thor. "My name's Laurence, so give a shout if you want another round. Food should be out in a minute."

"You have mine thanks," The god of Thunder replied pleasantly.

"Uhh..." Spider-Man tried again, and again got nowhere.

A large hand clapped him on the shoulder and Pete looked up at Thor's smiling face.

"I realize you are apprehensive, but fear not. As I said, your actions this day will be argued by the Odinson to any who disapprove. You need not over indulge, simply sample one to celebrate your part in the battle. I believe the Midgardian saying is 'one for the road'."

Spider-Man sighed in resignation. The big guy wasn't going to let this go, and Pete thought it'd be just as well if he didn't snub the literal god. He lifted up the bottom part of his mask again, something between a frown and a tired grin playing on his lips.

"Alright. Just one. That's all you're going to con me into."

"I do not 'con'. I merely persuade with a warrior's abandon," Thor replied, and picked up the smaller glass of amber liquid.

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at that description.

"Yeah, sure ya do sparky."

He watched the god of thunder drop the glass into the much larger mug of beer, and Pete followed suit, his inner chemistry nerd suddenly curious. Both men grabbed their mugs, and clinked them together in toast.

"To the man of spiders, may his battles be filled with glory and victory."

"To the god of thunder, may his Pantene bottles never clog."

* * *

><p>"Me, me, me! Me, me, me! Does whatever a guy like me can! Can I swing, from a thread?" A line of webbing attached itself to the ceiling, anchoring the singer, who then used it to merrily swing around in a small circle. One hand still tenaciously hung onto the pool cue that had become an impromptu microphone. "God dang right, look right here! Look out! <em>Whoo<em>!Here comes your friendly neighborhood me!"

Thor had killed his boilermaker in under a minute, and the second in even less time. When the thunder god had reached his third, Spider-Man had just managed to choke down the dregs of his first, and the webslinger was really starting to feel the effects. And then Thor had vanished into the men's room, leaving Spidey with a powerful, if poorly focused, urge to have some fun. The lack of other customers, likely a symptom of it only being three in the afternoon on a Tuesday, meant that the webslinger was forced to make his own entertainment. A few quarters spent on the jukebox for a proper beat, gave Peter all the excuse he needed to do something that would have him embarrassed to even hear about in any other situation.

For anybody who knew Peter Parker, it would have come as no surprise at all that this moment was when things decided to take a turn. In this case, the turn came in the form of a new, rather large, man in a yellow jumpsuit wandering into the bar. The new guy gave the doorless entrance of the bar another curious look then turned on the bartender.

"Hey, what happened to the door?"

Laurence the bartender pointed at Spider-Man with a sigh. "The guy who can't sing to save his life came in here with a friend. Big guy tore the damn thing off its hinges by accident. I'm just glad he paid for it."

The new guy frowned behind a dark blond handlebar mustache that Hulk Hogan would have been proud of and turned on the singer, intent on giving the little punk a piece of his mind.

"Hey you! Who do ya think you are? Running around with people who just wreck stuff? I ought ta give you a special session with mah fists!"

Laurence blinked, suddenly worried. "Hey, no fighting in my place! The guy paid for it, the door'll get fixed, so don't go wrecking anything else."

The large man in yellow, of course, completely ignored this as he stomped toward the still unaware Spider-Man. "Hey! Don't you ignore me ya singing pansy! Somebody's talkin to ya!"

A vague buzz that could have been his spider-sense, if it was buried under a few blankets, clued Peter in to something amiss behind him. And, if he didn't miss his guess, somebody was doing a whole bunch of non singing related yelling. Still hanging from the web line, Spidey leaned his head back to stare at what appeared to be a giant angry yellow marshmallow, wearing a gargantuan pair of black biker boots and a long blond pony tail, waddling his way.

"Ha-uh?" Pete inquired.

"Alright ya punk, pay attention to da words of the greatest fighter in the United States! Name's Rufus, and you're gonna apologize to the bartender and pay for that door!" The man struck a fighter's pose worthy of the absolute worst Kung Fu movies late night television had to offer, the sudden movement causing his massive belly to jiggle. "Or else I'm gonna rearrange ya face with my lightnin' quick fists!"

"But I already said the damn door got paid for!" Laurence shouted, earning absolutely nobody's attention.

Spider-Man was still for a moment, staring at the impossibly fat man currently posing at him. The buzz in his head was getting a little more insistent, though he couldn't quite figure why.

"...Staypuff? Is that you?" Peter slurred, sounding vaguely concerned. He shook his head sadly, like he'd just heard his good, but sometimes irresponsible, friend had put his last five dollars into a few lottery tickets. "Damn it, Ray. You did it again..."

Rufus' face turned red. "'Staypuff'? Oh that's it punk, my fists are gonna give ya amnesia!" The man let out what Peter figured was an impression of Bruce Lee's iconic Kung Fu yell and leapt at him, leg extended in a flying kick.

* * *

><p>"Never again."<p>

Peter stumbled into his apartment with an urgent need to use the restroom and an embarrassingly clear recollection of the night's events. First, that he'd gotten drunk. Second, that he'd gotten drunk enough to use a pool cue as an excuse to sing, which was just _awful_ on a great deal of levels. And most importantly, that an outrageously fat guy in a half unzipped yellow jumpsuit, a crime in and of itself as far as Pete was concerned, had picked a fight with him. Despite being well into a booze induced fog, the webslinger's reflexes and spider-sense still served him well, and the "fight" had degraded into a shouting match that just happened to involve martial arts. Or, more appropriately, what Rufus seemed to _interpret_ as martial arts, and Spider-Man tipsily dodging every attack.

_And me trying to not look at the guy's stomach bouncing around. _The wallcrawler thought with a grimace. _Why the heck would you have the jumpsuit unzipped like that? Just because it works for Black Cat doesn't mean it works for everybody. Just...yuck. _

The situation resolved itself when the webslinger cocooned Rufus to the wall next to the jukebox and washed his hands of the then currently upside down loudmouth. Peter also made sure to web the guy's mouth shut because he clearly wasn't Ken Masters, whoever the heck _that_ was, and was frankly tired of hearing about it. Thor made his apologetic reappearance a moment later, and offered to attend to things, as he'd promised. An offer which Peter greedily availed himself of. He'd then tracked down a pay phone and told aunt May he wasn't feeling well, which wasn't a lie, and that he'd visit her in the morning. After that, amid Thor's congratulations for a battle well fought, Peter had stumbled onto a bus, then stumbled up to his apartment.

After a quick trip to the restroom, Peter shuffled his way to the bedroom, idly cursing the effects of the drink Thor had insisted upon. Between a full day's patrol, the whole frost giant incident, the effects of the boilermaker, and the dodge fest of a fight with Rufus, Spidey found himself wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the evening.

Falling onto his bed with grumble, Peter shook his head. His first time drinking, which had been instigated by a Norse god, and he'd gotten into a bar fight with a crazy overweight marital artist. _That's not a life experience. That's a tabloid headline. All it needs is 'Man marries Bigfoot' right under it._

"Never, _never_ again."

* * *

><p><em>Drunk Spider-Man just might become a multi-parter if you guys think it's worth it.<br>_

_As with all fan fiction, I own nothing but the premise. Everything else is entirely owned by Marvel Comics or Capcom respectively._


	4. I'm with Aensland

Living with Morrigan Aensland, Tony had decided, was rather like dealing with ol' Hammertime when he'd first become an Avenger. To a lesser extent Steve as well, but at least Captain America only had a few decades he needed to be brought up to speed on. For instance, Steve Rogers didn't mistake one of Tony's televisions as a "mystical prison most foul" and valiantly trounce it to save poor trapped Leslie Neilson from its confines with a magic god hammer. By the same token, Cap hadn't confused the Miss America pageant for a "delightful flesh market" and try to persuade, and _boy_ did she lay it on thick, Tony into buying Miss West Virginia because her talent was magic which was "_intriguing_".

However, both Steve and Thor were fairly open about their ignorance about the modern world. Morrigan, on the other hand, was...less so.

* * *

><p>The first time it really hits home with Tony Stark that Morrigan is not good with technology is early one morning after a particularly vigorous evening together. He walks, though "zombies" might be a better term, his way from his bedroom and toward the kitchen. His mind is still mired in the slow-moving fog of waking, and so he doesn't give much thought to the curious fact that he woke up without the succubus sharing the bed. She usually likes to sleep in, and then attempt to entice him into brining her breakfast with a show of her many good qualities and promises of fun. Tony doesn't <em>cook<em>-cook for anybody, and isn't about to start now. Toaster, oven, and microwave are his areas of expertise in the culinary world and his attempt at an omelet was disastrous enough to negate any future attempts.

Instead, the billionaire is just grateful that he doesn't have to be his charmingly witty self first thing in the morning. Even he needs a break and a cup of coffee sometimes. A few eggos, blueberry if he had them, would be good too.

What he finds going on in his kitchen is so bizarre that it takes him a moment to properly process it. The succubus queen is clothed, which is unusual in and of itself when she ambles around Tony's house, and is tinkering with his microwave.

Well, _tinkering _might not be the best word. Sweet talking seems far more accurate.

Morrigan is crouched down, nearly on her knees, green eyes staring intently at the device which is clearly not cooking anything. Her black sleep pants are tight enough to be a second skin, and flatter her hips quite nicely, and the succubus' choice of shirt is a sports bra that matches her hair.

"Come on," Morrigan coos at the still silent microwave. Her fingers idly tap some of the buttons, which beep pleasantly at her but little else. "Just warm it up for me, and I'll do something for you. Anything you might like."

Tony gets close enough to look over her shoulder and sees that the microwave's timer reads "24:50:02". If she were to actually find the "cook" button, whatever was inside would be heated for just over a solid day. The billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist is honestly struck dumb that the cooker even goes that high.

"I'm afraid you can do very little to entice me, miss."

Stark blinks, and in his sleep addled mind, he honestly wonders for a moment if the microwave really did just talk. It honestly wouldn't be the first time one of his gadgets decided to grow a consciousness. If that's the case, Tony hopes this one won't decide to try and kill him. Or worse yet, fall for him. That'd be awkward for everybody.

The succubus makes a show of pouting, then gently caresses the top right corner of the microwave's door. He recognizes the motion as something she's done to him when he wasn't quite in the mood enough for her purposes. And seeing it used in this situation has Tony almost going cross-eyed in utter bafflement and feeling a small twinge of totally unwarranted jealousy. Because, really, it's a _microwave_.

"Oh come now. I've been around for a long," she stretches this word out, practically lolling her tongue around it, "time. I know many ways to make things fun for both of us."

"I find that distinctly difficult to believe," the voice replies blandly and Tony is now just awake enough to remember he never properly introduced the succubus to _all _of his entourage.

Pepper had met Morrigan by complete accident, and had steadfastly refused to join in which disappointed both succubus and the genius because it was common knowledge that redheads were great in bed. Rhodey was still largely in the dark, _ha-ha_, about the whole thing as far as Tony knew. By this point though, Pepper had probably told him about his friend's newest bed buddy. Happy knew about her, and steadfastly refused to drive both of them because Morrigan found it endlessly amusing to find new ways to distract Tony's driver from the road. Which really only left one person, er, artificial intelligence.

It takes Tony only a few seconds to recall all of this, and come to the most logical conclusion. Said conclusion demands a response.

Tony Stark, famously known as Iron Man, points at the queen of all succubi and laughs. Morrigan turns those bright green eyes on him, momentarily confused, and swiftly becomes miffed when she realizes she's the butt of somebody's joke.

"What?"

"JARVIS," Tony says between snickers, "I didn't know you had it in you."

"You _are _the one that programmed me, sir," The AI replies matter-of-factly.

"Point."

Morrigan glowers at her pet industrialist, though she still seems to not quite understand. "Tony, you're servants are _terrible_. In Aensland castle, none would dream of denying me."

"I do a pretty good job of it. And he's not a servant," Tony replies, smile still firmly on his lips. "He's an AI. Basically, he's the house. JARVIS the house, say hi."

"Hello Ms. Aensland."

Morrigan glances between him, the microwave, then scans the ceiling, looking for the source of the voice. She seems to consider things for a moment, then gives the microwave a few experimental taps. Nothing results from this, obviously, so she turns her attention back to Tony.

"This is not a servant." It isn't exactly a question, though it's a close thing.

"Nope. That's a microwave. You cook stuff with it."

The succubus ponders for another moment. "Then, the voice will not cook things _for _me."

"Do I appear to be a manservant?" JARVIS' voice is positively sniffy.

Morrigan pouts again, looking visibly dejected and mutters, "Damn."

* * *

><p>The succubus, as Tony also discovered, had a competitive streak a mile wide. Anything that could be turned into a contest, Morrigan did just that. The normal one was the bedroom, where Tony made a valiant showing but her demonic heritage would ultimately win the evening. If he was completely honest with himself, he was a little put out by this fact. But, at time marched on and their relationship continued, Tony discovered ways to even the scoreboard.<p>

* * *

><p>It happens during a evening, a month or so into their relationship. The sun is nearly below the horizon, and the remaining colors are all varying shades of blue and purple. Tony watches the sunset from his favorite couch, sipping on a scotch on the rocks that manages to hit exactly the right spot. He is relaxed, he is happy, and it all goes down the drain when Morrigan enters.<p>

Not to say he isn't happy to see her, or relaxed around her, but the woman can be absolutely insatiable. It nearly chokes the billionaire to say it, but he just isn't feeling particularly frisky tonight. But she is bright eyed, and bouncy enough to be interested in some early evening fun.

Tony decides to take a gamble and introduce the succubus to a fairly regular human past time: video games. Stark decides on the Nintendo, as it's the most active of the three consoles, and most likely to keep her attention.

She likes the name of the console, and makes the exact same connections between it and naughty things that everybody and a few of their grandmas have made since the thing was released. However, she seems less than impressed with the controllers, and idly examines one while Tony grabs something to play and the necessary peripherals.

"I've seen much better than this," she mentions casually, causing Tony to shoot her a look. Morrigan waggles the controller for emphasis. "Hardly any secondary features, and the color is plain boring. No imagination at all."

Tony allows a chuckle, knowing exactly what she means. Hawkeye showed him that particular shock video, the jerkass little Robin Hood knock off, and he hadn't been able to even look at the console for a few days afterward.

"That's not what they're for," he explains patiently and puts the game in. Tony then takes the little white steering wheel and pops his controller into in, and does the same for Morrigan. "You play games with them. I'll show you."

The succubus smiles coyly at him. "If you're interested in toys..."

"Nope," Tony cuts her off right there. "This is different."

He boots up the game, and Morrigan becomes slightly interested with the flashing colors and music. He explains the rules of the game, racing around the track a few times, and picks the lowest setting to get her used to the controls. The succubus picks the iconic princess of the series, which Tony finds just so fitting. He grabs his usual, the plumber's underappreciated brother.

Morrigan seems to enjoy it once she gets the hang of things, and is almost gleeful when she gets the lightning bolt that miniaturizes all her opponents. She coos smugly at him a few times when she knocks out other racers, and Tony casually mentions he's in first place. The succubus goes quiet, and turns her full attention to the race.

The billionaire knows his way around a racing game or two, because he 's always enjoyed getting to play around with cars, and wins every race until the fourth and final one. The succubus barely manages fifth for her best showing, but often finds herself hassled by green turtle shells, bananas, and deviously placed trees.

The finale is in a large castle, which Morrigan remarks looks vaguely like her home. The main hazards are the various lava rivers. The succubus has a stroke of good luck, and makes it into first during the initial lap. She can hardly control her pleasure at this, and rubs Tony's nose in her obviously assured victory. Stark takes loud umbrage at her trash talking, and zaps her with the dreaded blue turtle shell.

"What?" She demands at this affront. "Oooh you..."

Tony just smiles, and trails her for the remainder of the race, blasting her with every power up he comes across. He declares absolute victory over his voluptuous foe when he knocks her into a laver river and takes first place while she nets seventh.

Morrigan stares at the screen, obviously perturbed. The succubus takes one look at her steering wheel, and casually hurls it over her shoulder.

"The controls are off," she declares with an air of finality. She turns on Tony, and grins. "I know a better game."

She lunges and the night takes a turn for the usual between the two. She expresses mild disdain for the concept of video games for a few days afterward, insisting that Tony found a way to cheat somehow. In spite of her ranting and grumbling on the subject, there is an unmistakable gleam in her green eyes when Tony gives her a Nintendo Wii as a spur-of-the-moment present.

"But you still owe me a controller," he makes sure to tell her.

* * *

><p>Something else that sometimes puzzled Tony was the fact that he'd never really seen Morrigan Aensland angry. Not that this was a bad thing. When Dr. Steven Strange, the sorcerer goddamn supreme, mentioned somebody by name, even in passing, Tony figured it was just good sense not to truly annoy them. If he could help it, anyway.<p>

Hey, Tony knew he was a lot of things, but perfect had never been on that list.

* * *

><p>When Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk, returned to Earth, Tony knew he was in for it. During the god awful mess that had been the superhuman Civil War, a lot of unpleasantness had gone around. Admittedly, Tony had a hand in more than his fair share of it, and he didn't like that fact in the slightest. The Black Widow had once told him that she did what she did because she had "red on her ledger" and she wanted to wash it clean. Tony felt the same way nowadays.<p>

In the early days of the Civil War, the Hulk suddenly seemed to just lose his shit. More so than usual. The Hulk would show up someplace, never as Banner just as the Hulk, and wreck anything that looked at him funny.

For the struggling Pro-Registration faction headed by Tony Stark, this was absolutely unacceptable. The public had never been particularly at ease with the big green guy, and this sudden episode just played into every alarmist's hands. It was bad enough during the good times, but during the start of the Registration Act, with the Stamford explosion still fresh on everybody's minds, this was the absolute last straw. The American people had already lost two of their cities in the past decade, one with a horrific viral outbreak that the superheroes simply hadn't been able to deal with, and now one to a rampaging superhuman.

They flat out weren't going to tolerate the Hulk's rage anymore.

And so, SHIELD called in the Registered heroes to take him down. And Tony was one of them. Hell, he was the leader of them. And now he had to take down a good friend like he was a rapid animal. The thought of those orders still left a bad taste in the billionaire's mouth.

But, he just couldn't argue with the facts as they came in.

So he, Reed Richards, Dr. Strange, and a few others designed and built a ship. They then subdued the Hulk, much easier said than done, and shot him toward another planet. A world free of intelligent creatures, but plenty habitable. It was as merciful as Tony was allowed to get in the confines of his orders. At least that way, he thought, the Hulk would finally be left alone like he'd always wanted.

It wasn't until the discovery of the full picture that everybody realized they'd been had. Captain America found out that two senators pivotal in approving Registration were in Shadaloo and thus M. Bison's pocket. And then the nanobots used to subdue the villains SHIELD had captured went berserk, turning them into some kind of collective machine consciousness that demanded immediate action to stop. Upon later study, the nanobots came back with trace parts and programming unique to Victor Von Doom.

Everything that followed was a blur. The nanobot controlled villains were battled into submission. A biological agent was nearly released in the headquarters of the Anti-Registration heroes, only to be stopped by Deadpool of all people; the virus was almost instantly recognizable as something the defunct Umbrella Corporation cooked up. Then Captain America was shot on the steps of Federal Hall; he'd been leaving talks to get the Registration Act repealed. He went into a coma, and was reported dead a few days later.

SHIELD came down on every Shadaloo related operation it could find like an angry god, with Tony at the head. But Bison never surfaced, and of course Doom had a self destruct countermeasure in place so any direct evidence of Latverian intervention went up in microscopic smoke. Registration was repealed, though similar bills still popped up every so often, and the superhero community was left to re-mingle, bad blood and all.

It'd been...messy. All of it. Tony got a video from Bison himself during the fallout, encrypted out the ass and filtered through a few hundred proxies so Tony wasn't able to track the live signal right to the smug bastard, and the dictator had gloated pleasantly about using his powers to continuously harass the Hulk's mind for weeks at a time. Which meant that the Hulk had been being forced into a rage, and hadn't simply flown off the handle.

Which meant that Tony had shot a very good friend into outer space for absolutely _nothing_.

That was so astoundingly bizarre and fucked up, the billionaire couldn't help but laugh. Then he'd drunk so much that he'd been honestly surprised he even woken up the next day.

The Hulk had found his way back just prior to Galactus's most recent attack. Tony had attempted to get in contact with him, but the big guy made it abundantly clear who would get smashed if they met. Iron Man gave him a wide berth after that. But then they were put on the same side once again during the final battle against the world eater. Morrigan was quite pleased with herself at the time, for hurling the Hulk at Galactus' face. Anything that bought more time for the Fantastic Four to find the Ultimate Nullifier helped, and an angry gamma monster to the face seemed quite distracting to the world eater.

The next time Iron Man and the Hulk met, Tony had expressed his deepest apologies and revealed that Bison had been the one tormenting his mind. Bruce's alter ego hadn't forgiven him, not by a long shot, but seemed very interested in finding M. Bison and smashing him for a good long time. Tony promised to help any way he could. Hulk grumbled at that, and leapt away. At least by that point, Cap had resurfaced alive somehow. Nobody really cared how, they were just happy to have Steve back, not least of which was Tony Stark.

Tony and Hulk ran into each other again a few months later, and this time Morrigan was out with him. She was being her usual flirty self, until she caught sight of the big green guy. She actually scowled at him, as thoroughly displeased as Tony had ever seen her.

"Hulk," she greeted with as much joy as somebody greets flu season.

Hulk grunted down at her. "Bat lady."

The billionaire blinked at the two from behind his armored helmet, confused. "Uh, something wrong? There isn't a breakup I'm not aware of, is there? Cause the last time I saw you guys, you were perfectly cool with each other. So cool that she got to throw you at somebody. Granted, it was a giant planet eating somebody but..."

He trailed off when he noted neither of them were paying attention to him.

"Really," Tony tried again, "what's going on? And should I move back a little?...A lot?"

"Your big green lummox here just has no taste, that's all."

At that, Hulk did the worst thing he could every do to anybody. He smiled. "Umar is better."

Morrigan whirled on the big guy, pretty face crinkled up in fury. "SHUT. UP."

Tony managed to separate the two, and by the grace of god, not get smashed or tentacle harpooned in the process. The succubus fumed for the rest of the night, grumbling about "bad sports" and "not getting a fair shot" and "that harpy wouldn't know seduction if it..." and so forth. Tony Stark tried to be supportive, in his own Tony way, but that didn't have any effect. So he retired to his workshop.

"Umar," he wondered as he sat down at his computer.

The name sort of sounded familiar, and it obviously put Morrigan's bats in a twist. He had a mystery, and that could well be a temporary escape from all the bad memories and guilt Tony had been fighting since the end of the Civil War.

He found nothing matching the name online, so he made a couple of calls. Turned out, Dr. Strange had an answer for him. Tony listened to Strange's explanation growing progressively more stunned and afterward could only stare at the phone, dumbfounded, for what felt like hours. He eventually managed to thank the good doctor, then immediately called the Hulk on his old Avengers communicator card.

"What tin man want?" Bruce's alter ego ground out at him.

It said a lot for how shocked the billionaire was that this didn't faze him at all.

"Umar?" He asked, incuriously. "As in Dormammu's _sister_? The guy who Dr. Strange says is made of metal, crazy magic fire, and megalomania? That _Dormammu_? His sister?"

The Hulk smiled at him, and Tony didn't even register the hair on the back of his neck go into cardiac arrest.

Stark sputtered at him for a few seconds, then asked the only question that seemed relevant.

"...Did it burn?"

Hulk's smile turned more than a little smug. "Strongest there is."

Tony laughed at that like he hadn't laughed since before the Registration Bill had passed.

* * *

><p><em>As with all fan fiction, I own nothing but the premise. Everything else is entirely owned by Marvel Comics or Capcom respectively.<em>


	5. SHIELD Incident Report: Raccoon City

**Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division (S.H.I.E.L.D.) Incident Records...**

**Viral Weapon Incident (V.W.I.) reports...**

**V.W.I. Audio/Video Archive accessed...**

**Report: V.W.I. #RCDI1998**

**Excerpts from the audiolog of Anthony Edward Stark (Iron Man). JARVIS Artificial Intelligence recording. **

_Caution__: These files have been deemed Security Level 6 by director Nicholas Fury. Failure to provide proper clearance will result in prosecution and incarceration as necessary._

* * *

><p><strong>0720/1998. 1028 hrs.**

[Metal working sounds. Television heard in background.]

Female, muffled

...while the Avengers successfully repelled the attack, some are less than thrilled with their failure to capture the infamous World War 2 menace known as the Red Skull.

Senator Robert Kelly, muffled

How can they just let somebody like that get away? We're not talking about a purse-snatcher or something; Schmidt was practically another Mengele for god's sake!

Tony Stark, sarcastic

Sure, and that stuff you're talking about with mutants is _so different_.

Female, muffled

In other news, a string of bizarre murder cases have been making headlines in the small town of Raccoon City, Colorado. Details are presently unclear, though some local sources have referenced 'cannibalism' in their headlines. New information will be given as it comes in...

Tony Stark

'Cannibalism'? Jesus, this is what I get for putting on the news. JARVIS, how about something fun for a change?

JARVIS

Very good, sir.

**Recording Ends.**

* * *

><p><strong>0810/1998. 1415 hrs.**

Tony Stark

So Rhodey, how's our favorite flat top?

Air force Lt. Colonel James Rhodes

Still wondering why I associate with you. Billy...

Tony Stark

[Chuckle.]

'Billy'? Major Billy Guile?

Lt. Colonel Rhodes, amused

If you _ever_ call him that I can't be held responsible for what happens to your face. He doesn't like you as it is.

Tony Stark

Right. 'Wretched hive of scum and villainy'. That's me. You were saying?

Lt. Colonel Rhodes

He's worried about one of his boys. Redfield got discharged for telling another colonel where he could put an order, and now he's with the S.T.A.R.S. unit in Raccoon City.

Tony Stark

Raccoon City? You mean the place where people are eating each other? Doesn't sound like a great reassignment.

Lt. Colonel Rhodes

It's not, and apparently what's left of the S.T.A.R.S. unit got thrown out for 'botching an investigation'. Redfield and the others have gone dark.

Tony Stark, surprised

'What's left'?

Lt. Colonel Rhodes

Out of the two teams sent, five people came back. The other seven are K.I.A.

Tony Stark, incredulous

You're kidding. And nobody is looking into that?

Lt. Colonel Rhodes

[Sigh.]

Guile is trying, but the Shadaloo investigation is taking up most of his time, and the police chief in Raccoon is an asshole. Public support could help but to be honest, with what's going on these days, something like this barely makes a blip on the radar.

Tony Stark

Isn't that the truth. Between Magneto, Shadaloo, and HYDRA, I wouldn't be surprised if _General Zod_ attacked us.

Lt. Colonel Rhodes

Yeah, well try not to jinx us, alright Tony? We don't need to fight comic books too.

Tony Stark

Right. If you or _Billy_ need any help, just ask.

Lt. Colonel Rhodes

Thanks Tony.

**Recording Ends.**

* * *

><p><strong>0927/1998. 2331 hrs.**

[Noise from in-flight Repulsors. Audio quality is choppy.]

Tony Stark

You know I've never violated a government quarantine before? Guess that's something to check off on the bucket list.

Captain Steven G. Rogers, voice tight

Fury is ordering the Avengers to assist in quarantine operations. He's concerned that the virus may be airborne, and will infect anyone entering the city.

Tony Stark

So, we're supposed to just sit around while the whole city goes crazy? No chance Steve. And it's not like a bunch of army grunts with stop signs are going to stop it if it is airborne.

Captain Rogers

What about you?

Tony Stark

My suits have some of the best air scrubbers on the planet. I'll be fine. Are you getting the band together?

Captain Rogers

I've put the call out, but Thor is still in Asgard and I haven't gotten a response from Dr. Banner. Hank locked himself in the lab and is looking for a cure. Janet is with him.

Tony Stark

And Clint and Natasha are still over in Thailand. What about Fury? Is he going to try and stop me?

Captain Rogers

I doubt it. He's enforcing the quarantine, but he hasn't ordered you pursued. My guess is that he has orders and his hands are tied. The World Security Council is still pretty sore at him for New York.

Tony Stark, sarcastic

So I get to be recon. Great. Well, at least the Avengers are saving their best for first.

Captain Rogers

I'll be right behind you, soldier. I just need to..._liberate_ some transportation first.

Tony Stark

Ha, right. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And make sure you get some biohazard gear. 'George A. Romero's Captain America' doesn't have a good ring to it.

**Recording Ends.**

* * *

><p><strong>0928/1998. 0200 hrs.**

[Approaching moans. Heavy distant gunfire and screams. Hand repulsor shots heard over audio.]

Tony Stark

Talk to me JARVIS. This isn't really working.

[More repulsor shots. Moans continue to approach.]

JARVIS

Current repulsor output is set to subdue and incapacitate threats rather than terminate. Suggest increasing power to predicted lethal levels.

Tony Stark

So do it! Code TOS391963!

JARVIS

Certainly, sir.

[Each repulsor shot now ends a moan.]

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>0928/1998. 1245 hrs.**

JARVIS

It appears to be a secondary mutation of the virus, sir. After a period of hibernation, where-in previous wounds are healed, the subject revives with new abilities.

Tony Stark

Great. So I put a zombie down, it takes a nap, and then it wakes up with a red face and Wolverine claws. Fantastic. At least they're not adamantium.

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>0928/1998. 1401 hrs.**

Tony Stark

Any life signs?

JARVIS

I'm afraid not sir. Both of them are dead. Judging by their wounds, I surmise they were infected, and chose suicide.

Tony Stark

[Sigh.]

Damn it. Who were these guys?

[Rustling sound.]

Huh. That looks familiar.

JARVIS

That is the logo of the Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Corporation.

Tony Stark

Rhetorical statement JARVIS. Umbrella has been bugging me for a while now. Couldn't tell you how many 'business luncheons' of theirs I turned down.

JARVIS

Forty-five in the past two years. They've been very insistent.

Tony Stark

That's one word for it. Seeing their watermark on a bunch of soldiers in new though.

[Metallic scrapping.]

Well armed too.

JARVIS 

Indeed. I cannot locate any information that points to Umbrella having a paramilitary force of any kind. Even in the current SHIELD archives.

Tony Stark, grim

Well, if _that's_ not a red flag, I don't know what is. JARVIS, I want you to keep records of everything we find with an Umbrella logo on it. Fury'll want to know about this.

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>0929/1998. 0230 hrs.**

[Loud, sluggish footfalls.]

JARVIS

Sir, I must recommend you take some time to rest.

Tony Stark, groggy

Can't. Heard that radio transmission. Maybe 'Carlos' knows what the hell happened here.

JARVIS

Sir, I must insist. You've been awake for nearly thirty hours. The use of higher power repulsors and the flight into the city has lowered your armor's reserve power far faster than normal. Reserve power is currently at twenty-seven percent, and repulsor flight becomes inadvisable at thirty-five percent power. Should you lose consciousness in this state, I cannot guarantee your safety.

Tony Stark

I...

JARVIS, firm

Sir, you'll be no good to anyone inside an inoperable suit.

Tony Stark

[Groan.]

Only long enough for the Arc reactor to recharge the batteries. Four hours, ok JARVIS?

JARVIS

Very good, sir.

Tony Stark

Ok.

[Metallic creek, then door slam.]

Tony Stark, exhausted

Haha. A typewriter. Who still uses those...

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>0929/1998. 1654 hrs.**

[Ragged breathing.]

Tony Stark

How old?

JARVIS

Sir, I have detected radio transmissions at the Raccoon Police Department. I recommend...

Tony Stark, forceful

_How old? _

JARVIS

...Given height and body mass, and compared to known averages...

[Pause.]

...nine years old.

[Pause. Breathing has become noticeably distressed.]

If I may sir, as I said, I have detected several two-way radio transmissions from the area around Raccoon Police Department. There are survivors.

Tony Stark

...right. Right. I'm heading there now.

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>0929/1998. 1813 hrs.**

[Loud roar.]

Tony Stark 

Holy sh-!

[Sound of small missile launch. Roar is cut off by an explosion.]

[Pause.]

Tony Stark

Did I just kill a giant alligator?

JARVIS

It would appear so, sir.

Tony Stark, weak chuckle

Ok. Ok, good. I just wanted to be sure.

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>0929/1998. 2019 hrs.**

[Loud echoing alarms.]

Mechanical female voice

Self-destruct sequence has been activated. This sequence may not be aborted. All employees please proceed to the emergency car at the bottom platform.

Tony Stark, furious

Right, because I didn't have enough problems!

Mechanical female voice

Access denied. Security keycard require-

[Unibeam fires. Metallic groan and crash.]

Tony Stark

God I need a drink.

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>1001/1998. 0120 hrs.**

[Hum of Quinjet engine.]

Tony Stark, quiet

SHIELD find any other survivors?

Captain Rogers, also quiet

Some. A few helicopters made it out of the city and SHIELD is picking up survivors. Some of them are former S.T.A.R.S. members. SHIELD is making sure to get to them before the army does. They've been through enough without dealing with General Ross.

[Pause.]

You holding up?

Tony Stark, distant

We nuked a city, Steve. And I'll bet the missile they used had Stark Industries parts in it. We did some work on IRBM guidance systems and engines a while back. Better target acquisition and fuel efficiency, things like that...

Captain Rogers

It wasn't your fault, Tony.

Tony Stark

How did this happen Steve? This wasn't like Loki trying to conquer New York with an army, or HYDRA attacking the U.N. This was just _one_ town. We should have been able to handle it...

Captain Rogers

You personally got three people out of that mess, Tony. If you weren't there, they'd be dead right now. In my book, that's something to be proud of.

Tony Stark, angry

I didn't get them out of _anything_, Steve. I found them next to a train _outside_ of the quarantine! The only thing I saved them from was a long walk to the Quinjet. Steve I...

[Pause.]

...I didn't save _anybody_.

Captain Rogers, firm

Don't talk like that Tony. You did. You got those people to an extraction zone. That's still _something_. And believe me, we're going to find whoever started this. Fury already has a few leads and...

Tony Stark, interrupting

Umbrella. I had a feeling, but I wasn't sure until I found a few working computers in the underground lab. They've been making bioweapons. And they screwed up. That what all of this was.

Captain Rogers

Then we'll start there. Fury's on the warpath already. If you have proof, then Umbrella is as good as finished. We should be back on the Helicarrier in an hour.

[Voice softens.]

Until then, try to get some rest. You look like you need it.

**Recording Ends. **

* * *

><p><strong>S.H.I.E.L.D. Report: V.W.I. #RCDI1998<strong>

**Raccoon City Incident Survivor Statuses**

**Date of writing: 10/19/1998**

**Agent reporting: Coulson, Phillip**

Officer Kennedy, Leon S:

Interview with survivor provided invaluable information on the outbreak and its effects on living organisms. Director Fury has offered him a recommendation for a new program with the U.S. secret service. His experience with the virus would be invaluable during any subsequent outbreak. At time of writing, Mr. Kennedy is still considering the offer.

Redfield, Claire:

Ms. Redfield was released after making her statement, and current whereabouts are classified. SHIELD is monitoring her in the event that the parties responsible for the incident make an attempt on her life. Ms. Redfield is currently searching for her brother, Christopher.

Birkin, Sherry:

Due to the presence of the virus in Ms. Birkin, she has been put in temporary quarantine to ascertain whether or not she is infectious. Preliminary reports regarding this are negative and initial tests show the virus appears to have bonded with Ms. Birkin. Current theory suggests Ms. Birkin may be a mutant, which would account for her adaptation to the virus. Until such time as she has proven unable to infect others, Ms. Birkin is to be considered a ward of SHIELD.

(Former) S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team Officer Valentine, Jillian

Officer Valentine proved standoffish, citing a lack of SHIELD intervention for the total destruction of Raccoon City. She has repeatedly referenced a report she, Redfield, Chris, Burton, Barry, and Chambers Rebbeca wrote regarding the S.T.A.R.S. investigation of the cannibal murders and the Spencer Mansion Incident. She feels if this report had been heeded, the further infection of Raccoon City would not have occurred. Officer Valentine was released shortly after making her statement.

(Former) S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team Officer Burton, Barry

Officer Burton was responsive, and provided a full report of the incident from his perspective. However, like Officer Valentine, he cited the failure of SHILED to become involved during initial stages of the outbreak as the cause for the destruction of the city. Officer Burton was released after making his statement, with plans of attending to his family, though he reluctantly offered his expertise should another biohazard incident occur.

(Former) U.B.C.S. (Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service) Private Oliveira, Carlos

Private Oliveira was eager to share his experiences with SHIELD. Evidently, the U.B.C.S. functions as a military response team for viral outbreaks. It relies on mercenary recruits, and Private Oliveira described the initial mission goal as one of survivor relief. He states that this proved false after the actions of superior officer Sergeant Zivoviev, Nikolai. He further states that poor leadership caused the death of nearly one hundred-twenty (120) U.B.C.S. soldiers. Private Oliveira has expressed interest in acting as an advisor or agent for a potential SHIELD anti-viral service.

Additional survivors have been discovered and will be reported on as information becomes available.

Personal recommendation: Monitor all persons involved with the incident for PTSD, and offer psychiatric help as necessary. Begin investigation of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Corporation's involvement in the incident. In addition, allow Ms. Birkin visitors. Temporary quarantine shouldn't equate to prison.

* * *

><p>So, wow, it's been a minute, huh?<p>

Originally, I did this on the suggestion from one of my beta readers. He had the idea that things like this, background/worldbuilding type shorts, could be used as "bumper chapters" in between chapters in the actual Amorously Minded story. I pitched it to some people, and while the short itself was fine the bumper chapter idea didn't really catch on. So, to the scrapbook it is then.

If you guys like stuff like this, I'll try to do more.

_As with all fan fiction, I own nothing but the premise. Everything else is entirely owned by Marvel Comics or Capcom respectively._


	6. MegaStark

_"You consider you can defeat me Dr. Mandarin? Those do not refer me the Super Fightening Zillionaire Easy-Man Philathtropolis for nothing you realize?"_

Kasugano Sakura coughed as a bite of last night's leftovers nearly came out of her nose. The translation was _awful_, even she could see that, and her English was still in the lower fortieth percent of her class. Oh, she could survive with what she knew, Ken had been very gracious in his "tutoring" when she'd gone to the US with Ryu-san, but it wasn't going to win her any awards either.

_"MegaStark Justice Buster!" _A whole manga panel was devoted to showing the thoroughly incorrect interpretation of Iron Man firing the giant cannon his arm had transformed into. It'd been a fire hose at one point in the last volume, and a satellite dish before that.

Sakura shook her head as the character kept boasting. _It's like they drew a beard on Hibiki-san and stuffed him into an armor._

Swallowing another bite of lukewarm beef bun, which wasn't bad at all for her first unguided trip into the world of cooking, she moved to her English-to-Japanese dictionary. She had to be sure, but there was just _no way_ that "Philathropolis" was a real word.

"Hey, Sakura." She got a light, friendly punch in the shoulder, as Kazama Akira dropped into the seat next to her. "How's the research going?"

"Goofy," Sakura replied, flipping through the dictionary. "I don't think these Korean manga companies know how to translate anything."

Akira snorted and took a pull from her sports drink. She and Sakura usually liked to find a quiet place to spar at lunch, along with Hinata and Batsu when he could make it, but Sakura was already lagging behind with her project and due-dates waited for nobody. Which meant Akira had spent a somewhat lackluster half-hour beating up training dummies, and that had left her with a mind to mess with her poor struggling classmate.

"I told you, proof reading English can be hard."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "That's funny, coming from you. You got a ninety-eight on the last test. I thought our teacher was going to have a stroke."

Akira, with her straight chin-length black hair and love for motorcycles and martial arts, was the very definition of a tomboy. A fair amount of the school had come to the conclusion that she was in a gang, or otherwise some sort of trouble maker. Which wasn't true, but perceptions could be difficult to fight, and Akira hadn't seem interested in really trying. With that "bad girl" persona, nobody, not even her teachers, had expected her to excel in her foreign language class.

"I am gifted," Akira replied in proper American English. She grinned at Sakura's glower, shifting back into Japanese. "I _did_ warn you."

"Uh-huh." Sakura kept scouring the dictionary for a moment, finding nothing, and ran a frustrated hand through her short brown hair. If she'd actually found it, at least she could have been done with this page. "There's no way this is a real word."

"What's that?" Akira had leaned over to look at the dictionary.

"Fil-an-throw-pulis. I... think that's how you say it?"

Akira quirked a black eyebrow. "No, I don't think that is. They might mean "Philanthropist", maybe. You know," she gave Sakura an expectant look, "like Tony Stark."

Sakura brightened, "Right! That'd make sense..." She trailed off as she suddenly recalled something very important about her friend. Tony Stark was sort of Akira's new role model. Not when it came to fighting of course, that space was still reserved for her brother Daigo, but her interests in motorcycles had recently expanded into other mechanical fields. And in the world of mechanics, Tony Stark reigned supreme. Akira also had a somewhat secret love for the _Shooting Star Rockman_ franchise. Though the "somewhat secret" part went away pretty quick once Sakura had seen Akira's room; she'd had no idea there were that many Geo Stelar wall scrolls for sale, let alone that somebody actually owned all of them.

And what had recently filled in the gaps between those Rockman wall scrolls? Imported posters of anything and everything related to Iron Man. Sakura's brown eyes hesitantly looked back at the half covered manga. And what was she currently reading for her English project? A trashy little comic book series that mocked both of those things.

_Uh-oh. _A small part of Sakura's mind whimpered.

"What are you reading anyway?" Akira looked a little curious now. "It'd have to be pretty bad to screw up like that." She reached for the manga, and Sakura, for the first time, noticed that her friend was sporting a short-sleeved red shirt with a large gold Iron Man helmet airbrushed onto it.

"_International schools are great,_" Akira had said at the start of the year. "_I hate having to wear uniforms._"

_Uh-Oh. _A somewhat larger part of Sakura's mind whimpered.

Before she could even begin to think of a way to keep her friend from seeing the comic, Akira had snatched it up and flipped it over to the cover. Sakura watched her friend's gray eyes slowly widen in shock.

"What the..." Akira stared at the cover for a second, seemingly unsure what to make of it.

"Hey, it's just a silly comic, you don't..."

Akira wasn't paying attention, her eyes focused on the book as she began to flip through it. The shorter haired girl swallowed a lump in her throat, and hopped that her friend would just find the manga to be a dumb farce, rather than a complete affront.

"Dr. Mandarin?" Akira mumbled and flipped a few more pages. "Dynamo Man? Who the heck is this guy?" She flipped the comic over at Sakura and pointed at a tall black man in a long coat with an eye patch.

"That's...Doctor Director Fury." Sakura could feel herself deflating as she explained. It sounded even more stupid out loud. "He made MegaStark."

Akira just stared at her, blank-faced, then went back to flipping through pages. She stopped again, though she now looked a bit peeved. Flipping the comic back at Sakura, she pointed at a woman next to "MegaStark" and asked, "And who the hell is _this_? Is that supposed to be Sonia?"

Sonia Strumm, aka Harp Note, was the guitar wielding sort-of sidekick to Geo's Rockman. The woman was certainly dressed like Harp Note, the heart-themed dress over bodysuit and Sentai-like helmet were recognizable enough. But Harp Note, and Rockman for that matter, were supposed to be about thirteen years old in the cartoons. The woman on the manga page was a _very_ full bodied adult, with much longer hair. And wings... for some reason. Sakura could only look at the page, and nod helplessly.

Akira, now definitely looking irritated, refocused on the manga. She went through another few pages, listing off things with increasing outrage. "Whiplash Man? Hammer Woman? Monger Man? _Cobalt Man_?" She abruptly stopped, and took a long, hissing breath.

Sakura was suddenly looking at the comic again, though Akira had made sure it was a much closer than before. In the panel her friend was pointing at, "MegaStark" stood atop another man-shaped armor as he flew away from a large explosion.

_"Away we Rush Machine! To Victoriousness!" _Said the speech bubble above MegaStark.

""Rush Machine"?" Akira ground out. She sounded like she wanted to throttle someone.

Sakura could only shrug and chuckle weakly. "Comics...right?"

Akira stared at her, silent aside from what might have been the sound of teeth grinding on teeth. She didn't quite throw the manga back at Sakura's desk, but it was a close thing. Akira launched herself out of her chair and stomped toward the classroom door, fists clenched in such a way that implied a horrible fate for the Martial Arts Club's training dummies.

_Well, _Sakura thought as her shoulders slumped, _there goes your secret weapon. _She glanced back at the manga, then at the dictionary, and finally on the note she'd written with the impending due-date, and sighed.

"Darn it."

* * *

><p>Yes, I'm alive. Yes, I'm slower than a rampaging tidal wave of molasses (actually happened once, look it up). I can't offer much on this aside from a heartfelt apology to everybody who's been waiting for me to get off my behind. You guys are great and my excuse of being a scatter-brained blond guy can only go so far to cover for my absentee-ness.<p>

I'm still working on revisions for the main story, and for a while I was stopping myself from writing anything else because I wanted to get back up-to-date with things. As it turns out, that doesn't speed me up, it just burns me out. So, I'm going to try to mix in silly stuff like this so I can still give you guys content while I wrangle the main story.

Hope all of you guys are well and that this makes up for my absence just a little bit.

Bonus Points for spotting how piss-poor my knowledge on anything Japanese High School stuff is. Persona series, you have failed me not just in your in-game tests but in real life as well!


End file.
